One Direction Preferences

88. You Come Out Of Surgery

Harry: You wake up in a hospital bed, confused and rather groggy. Reaching up to rub your tired eyes, you feel the tug from the IV that's been injected into your arm. All at once it all comes back to you: the fall you took while cleaning out the gutters, smashing your head against the pavement below, and being in and out of consciousness while Harry rushed you to the hospital. Major surgery wasn't needed, just a resetting of your left arm, stitches on your forehead and cheek, and a scan to make sure that you didn't suffer any sort of brain damage. You glance out the window and notice that it's dark out, making you curious about the time and how long you've been out cold. "Well, look who's awake," Harry says, rising from his seat at the end of the bed and plopping himself down beside you. He reaches out and takes your hand in his own, relieved that you've finally opened your eyes. You're about to smile when a rather genius idea pops into your head. It's slightly cruel, but you can't help yourself, realizing that you might never get another chance like this again. With wide and confused eyes, you retract your hand from him. "Who are you?" You ask, watching in sheer amusement as he turns white, panic washing over his face as his eyes widen in horror. You don't think you've ever seen him so distraught. Breaking character you smile, unable to carry on your joke in fear that your boyfriend might have an aneurism. "I'm just kidding, I know who you are, I'm so sorry," You say in between fits of laughter, finding the dry and unamused look he's giving you absolutely hysterical. At least you think you're funny.

Liam: Your eyelids flutter open, allowing you to take in your surroundings. You're in a tiny white room, seated in a dentist's chair of all places, and your mouth is throbbing. You don't think you've ever been in this much pain. All you can taste is blood and you feel foggy and light, as if your brain is somehow floating and you're not entirely sure what's going on. "(Y/N)!" A voice says, pulling you out of your reverie, the sudden noise surprising you. A familiar face is standing in the doorway, a bemused smile on his lips as you stare at him, clearly confused and trying to figure out why you feel so out of it. "Liam?" You whine, squinting your eyes and absentmindedly reaching your hands out to touch him, "Liam, are you my doctor?" Your words are muffled by the excessive amount of cotton balls in your mouth to stop the bleeding. You think that you look like a chipmunk but you can't be certain that your assumption is correct, in fact, you're not even quite sure of your name at the moment. You hate this feeling, and you don't understand why your boyfriend is laughing at you. "Come on, love, let's get you home," He chuckles, easing you out of the dentist's chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, just in case you happen to tip over. He nods to the dentist and she waves her goodbye, smiling at you though you only gape at her. You're pretty sure that she said something to you, but you're too focused on figuring out how to make your feet work. You grip Liam's shirt in your fist, clutching onto him for dear life and mumbling something about how your shoes are broken and refuse to let you walk. You're literally making no sense, and Liam can't get enough of it. He's slightly disappointed that you only have to get your wisdom teeth out once in your life.

Louis: You start to come to, lazily blinking your eyes and instantly realizing that you're not at home in your own bed. As your senses come alive, you're blinded by the bright white of the hospital room and the disgusting stench of antiseptic. Glancing down at your arm you notice the IV, which makes your stomach churn. You hate needles more than anything. "What in God's name-" You start to say, your voice gravelly and hoarse, confused as to why you're even in a hospital in the first place. Across the room you notice a lump of grey sweatshirt and black jeans lying in two hospital chairs pulled together, a rather uncomfortable position from the looks of it. His chest rises and falls rhythmically as tiny snores slip out of his mouth, completely knocked out. "Lou?" You call out, desperate for him to see that you're awake so he can tell you just how long you've been here. A little bit louder, you try again, "Louis!" He suddenly jumps awake, noticeably disoriented as he groggily rubs his eyes and looks around the room. When he sees you, he practically sprints to your side, frantic and disheveled and very unlike Louis. He takes your hand into his own and bows his head at your side. "God, I was so worried," He whispers, drawing in a shaky breath and looking up at you, his eyes bloodshot and full of tears. You furrow your brows, earning a deep sigh from him when he sees that you don't understand. Bracing himself for the explanation, he scoots closer to you, almost as if he's afraid you're going to disappear. "There was a car accident," Louis explains softly, giving your tiny hand a gentle squeeze, "But you'll be just fine, a few broken ribs but other than that you're okay. I've been a nervous wreck on the other hand, but that's beside the point." He chuckles as bit as his own joke and you do too, immediately feeling the pain in your ribs. You wince and he stops laughing, a serious expression on his tired face. "You need to take it easy, alright? No arguments. I'm going to grab a nurse and have her check you out. Stay there," He orders sarcastically, as if you could even get up in the first place.

Niall: "Okay, be honest," You groan, covering your nose with your hands, embarrassed even though it's just your boyfriend in the hospital room with you, "How hideous am I?" You just got out of reconstructive surgery due to a deviated septum. It was becoming difficult for you to breathe through your nose, and Niall was sick and tired of your snoring, so you decided to finally do something about it. The surgery was quick and painless, but now your nose is all bandaged up and you feel like a mummy. He sighs and shimmies out of his jacket, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at you. He's been sitting in here all morning, waiting patiently until they brought you in and calming you down beforehand, and all through the surgery. You don't blame him for being a bit antsy to get out of this place. "I can't exactly tell you if you won't let me see your nose," He retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing the room to where you're seated on the hospital bed, eyes wide and nervous that he's going to make fun of you. "Come on," He says, motioning for you to move your hands, "Let me see." You mull it over in your head for a few moments, wondering if you'd be able to get away with avoiding him until the bandages can come off. Taking notice to the impatient look on his face, you decided against it and realize that you're probably better off just getting it over with now. Slowly you lower your hands from your face, squinting your eyes as you gage his reaction. A small smile tugs at his lips, and you instantly know that it's bad. "Don't laugh at me," You whine, hanging your head in shame and trying to shove him away from you. Completely disregarding your request, he bursts out laughing, fighting you off almost effortlessly. "Come on, stop it, stop it," He takes your face between both of his hands and forces you to look at him, "I think it's cute!" He lightly kisses your forehead, reassuring you that you he's always going to think you're adorable, no matter what you do to your face.

Zayn: "Right on time," Zayn remarks as you slowly open your eyes, feeling extremely dazed and disoriented. He's standing at the end of your bed, fiddling with one of the many arrangements of flowers that he's set up around the room for you. They're all your favorites, pink roses, and the aroma is heavenly. You love the way he never fails to go above and beyond for you, his number one priority being to let you know just how much he loves you. It was a rather simple surgery, the removal of your appendix, but still he hasn't left your side for one moment. His was the last face you saw before you went under the anesthesia, and now it's the first you see upon waking up. He's even gone as far as to take off time from tour rehearsals to take care of you at home. You're basically going to be helpless for at least a week, and he knows that you're going to need him around. Though you protested, vowing that you can do it on your own, he wasn't having it, and neither were the other boys. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, appreciation written all over your face as he seats himself beside you. He leans in and kisses your cheek, a sweet gesture that still causes your heart to race. When he pulls away, you shoot him a disapproving look. "You didn't have to do all this," You tell him, wincing as you try to reposition yourself in the bed. You're in a lot of pain, but having Zayn here to distract you makes it slightly bearable. You just wish that they could make hospital beds a bit more comfortable for the patients. "I know, I wanted to," He insists, brushing it off as if the twelve dozen roses aren't really that big of a deal. You feel so loved by him, so much that it's overwhelming. He does so much for you, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have him all to yourself.